


When are you going to take me seriously as a hunter?

by hstevens5



Series: When are you going to take me seriously as a hunter? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Drama, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Light Angst, Minor Violence, Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), References to Supernatural (TV), Winchester Family (Supernatural) Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hstevens5/pseuds/hstevens5
Summary: After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Series: When are you going to take me seriously as a hunter? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597426
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Life was hectic to say the least. After emerging from your world into the Winchester’s there was a lot to learn, and many of the hunters were placed on a semi-hunting hiatus, until you figured out the rules of this new world. It didn’t take long until many of you were going out regardless of the brothers knowing, having quickly getting back into the swing of the Internet and Google searching for cases. 

You went on your first hunt barely a few weeks after emerging from the rift. And your second after Dean returned from wherever he was– Sam didn’t often let you and the other hunters help with family issues, even though you all saw him struggling to get through. Everyone distracted by Dean’s return made it easy to slip out of the bunker without being seen. 

The hunt wasn’t far from the bunker and you had a firm grasp on a crossbow from your time distance hunting angels in your world and knew a few silver tipped arrows would easily take out the werewolf pack nearby. You hadn’t realized the pack was actually two that merged together for safety, effectively doubling the number of werewolves expected. You hobbled back to the bunker after, with multiple deep scratches down your arms, neck and across your back. 

The lights were out in the entrance when you creaked the heavy door open as quietly as possible, hoping everyone was asleep so that you could clean up your wounds in the bathroom and no one would be any wiser to your disappearance. You crept soundlessly down the stairs and around the library when a deep voice made your stop in your tracks. 

“Y/N.” It said, no malice or anger in the voice, just your name spoken simply. 

He hadn’t seen you yet, merely calling out into the darkness at the sound of the door. You contemplated continuing to walk toward the bathroom, when you saw Dean’s tired face emerge around the corner, locking eyes with yours. He looked exhausted and you felt a mild twinge of concern, before shaking it off. You tried to stand taller on your injured leg, but winced in the process, prompting Dean to move forward and grab lightly at your shoulders. You looked up into his bright green eyes, as he scanned down your arms, taking in the deep scratches that you hadn’t noticed were oozing blood onto the floor. At the sight of the pool of blood under your right foot, you began to feel woozy and felt Dean’s grip tighten on your shoulders. 

“Were you bitten?” He asked gruffly, moving the sleeve of your shirt up half an inch to inspect the scratch better. You winced, but shook your head no. At one point, the two remaining werewolves, angry as hell that you had killed most of the pack, had you pinned to the ground, snarling and snapping their jaws. You struggled, kneeing the one closest to you to free my leg and grab the silver knife strapped tightly to it. Killing the last two was easy, but not without injury apparently. 

Dean shook his head ruffly, almost as if he was clearing it, and guided you down the hall, passed the bathroom you and the other hunters shared at the beginning of the hallway, toward the one he and Sam shared at the end. You hesitated, but he guided you softly forward through the door, flipping the light on as you entered. He motioned for you to sit on the chair in the corner, as he gathered the supplies for stitches from under the sink and a towel for you to bite onto. You placed the soft white fabric between your teeth and removed your over shirt, as Dean prepared the deepest wound on your right arm with alcohol. You fought back the urge to scream, as the deep burn of the wound began to ache, before numbing a bit. Dean worked quickly stitching the deepest one, before the small one on your shoulder, and the couple that were visible on your back, from when your rolled over after killing the first werewolf with the silver knife. The other took advantage and sliced easily through your shirt, exposing multiple scratch marks across your back. 

Wrapping a thin gauze wrap around the wound on your forearm, Dean began cleaning up, as you put your shirt back on, and stood up walking toward the door. 

“Hey,” Dean called out lightly, making you stop. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he continued, “but next time, make sure you tell me where you’re going, okay?” He finished, concern lacing his tone. 

You nodded quickly, before disappearing down the hall to the room you shared with two other female hunters. Annabel, the one keeping watch while Sarah slept, looked up when you entered the room. You shook your head once, and motioned toward the bed, indicating that you would take watch while she slept. You weren't tired anyway, and the fear of someone attacking didn't go away so easily. Even in this new safer world. Placing your head lightly against the doorframe you stared directly into the darkness, remembering Dean's soft words and gentle touch. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

The next day, Mary told you that Sam wanted to talk to you in the infirmary, and you hung your head walking slowly as you knew the conversation that was waiting. 

As you entered the infirmary, you saw Dean and Sam talking quietly by the bed, their heads hung low deep in conversation. You cleared your throat awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt, but not wanting to overhear either. The brothers glanced up, straightening at looking at you. Dean smiled, before excusing himself out the side door, glancing back briefly toward where you stood waiting for Sam expectantly. 

Sam signed loudly, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked as exhausted as Dean did, only you don’t think he hid it quite as well as the older Winchester. 

“Y/N, sit down.” Sam said softly. You sat quickly, knowing it wasn’t an invitation, but more of an order. 

“Look, I know that you are a good hunter. Bobby has filled me in on some of the hunts you went on and how many angels you took care of in your world. I have no doubt you are skilled. And I know that it’s frustrating to come here and have rules thrust at you the second you walk through the door.” Sam finished gesturing toward the door behind you, a small smile on his lips. 

You looked at the ground, suddenly feeling guilty for leaving without telling anyone. You had yet to be on the receiving end of a Sam “I’m disappointed in you,” conversation, and it wasn’t something you were enjoying. You felt his eyes on you, and looked up quickly, seeing his awkward crooked smile. 

“I’m not angry,” he stated simply. “But I am upset that you would leave without telling anyone. We need all of us to make this work, and like it or not you’re part of this family now. And family looks out for one another." Sam trailed off, looking you up and down briefly. "Dean told me from the look of your wounds you took on a pack of werewolves by yourself,” he finished looking up at you for an answer, concern etched into his features. 

You nodded your head slowly, knowing the disappointment would be worse if he knew it was actually two packs. He signed again, dragging his fingers through his long hair. He looked deep in thought briefly. 

“Look, Y/N, you’re smart. I think I’d prefer if you would stick back from hunting for a bit and help work on some research with me.” He said it like it was a reward, but you knew it was a punishment. You nodded your head, and Sam got up wordlessly, wrapping you in a hug, careful to avoid your fresh wounds. You hugged him back, and he kissed you briefly on the cheek, before exiting the infirmary. You sat there in silence, regretting so many of your choices. 

Exiting the infirmary, with your head down, you ran roughly into what felt like a brick wall, only to feel two strong arms grip you tight. You hesitated, your body going into fight or flight mode, but softened when you heard, 

“I really am glad you are okay, Y/N.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

Despite the desk duty with Sam, you found yourself spending a bit more time with the older Winchester. After hugging you outside of the infirmary last week, he seemed to hang around a bit more, working quietly next to Sam, you across the large wooden table, usually your nose deep in a lore book. You hated not being able to hunt, but you loved reading and you were good at looking for information that others’ might have missed. You'd already been complimented by Sam a few times for finding new information on a few different monsters, that he quickly added to the searchable online database he was compiling.

However, lately you were finding yourself more and more distracted. You often caught yourself glancing up from the book you were reading locking eyes with Dean. He’d smile or wink at you and you would instantly go warm, your face flushing red, and dive back into reading. You were confused by the way you felt around Dean, but buried the questions and the feelings inside the imaginary emotional box inside of yourself.

After about a week of Dean hanging around doing research, Sam finally questioned him.

“Dude,” he started getting Dean’s attention. Dean looked up at him waiting for the rest. “Since when have you been so into research? You’ve hung out with us the last four days straight. Don’t you wanna get out and hunt?”

Dean hesitated, glancing toward you before his expression hardened.

“What, I can’t be interested in learning more before throwing myself at a hunt? I didn’t realize trying to become smarter was a crime to you.” Dean seemed annoyed, and you laid your book down, glancing between them both.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Dean,” Sam said, sliding a hand down his face, revealing an annoyed expression. “You’ve just never been into research and I want to make sure you’re doing okay, considering...” He trailed off lightly, and you felt the mood shift. Dean went from annoyed to angry, leaning his arm on the desk and turning to face Sam completely his palms open in a warning.

“Don’t start that, Sam. I’m fine.” Dean made sure the last two words of his sentence were short and clipped. The conversation was shifting into an uncomfortable direction, and you stood up silently, indicating that you were going to go be anywhere else. Sam nodded in your direction, giving you a crooked smile, before turning back toward his brother. Dean didn’t take his eyes off of Sam. As you were leaving you could hear their hushed arguing and before heading toward the bunker staircase, you swore you heard your name.

You decided you needed some air, and you paced back and forth outside of the bunker door, knowing that you'd be in even more trouble if you went too far, especially if Sam came looking for you. Your thoughts quickly shifted to Dean, beginning to question why he was so interested in sitting around with you and Sam. You had done your fair share of research since being at the bunker but you rarely saw Dean anywhere near the library, unless there was a specific case he needed a quick answer for. So what changed? You’d shared a few rare intimate moments in the last few days, and despite burying your feelings, you couldn’t help but overthink what was happening. Were you reading too far into it all? Before you could think too much, you heard the door open behind you. You turned and locked eyes with Dean.

He gave you an awkward look, shoving his hands in his pockets. You were surprised to see it was him, and it must have shown on your face, because he held up a hand and said, “sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” You simply nodded your head and stared back at him, expecting him to say more. You could tell he wanted to say something, but he shuffled his feet and seemed to not want to look you in the eye.

You felt your impatience begin to grow. Struggling with years of anxiety, questioning your every move quickly became a trigger and you could feel how the impatience in this situation was affecting you. Feeling stupid and confused, you turned and walked off toward the woods, no longer caring if Sam would be mad you hadn’t come back. All you knew was your could no longer stand near someone who confused and awakened you as much as Dean did. You’d been living in the bunker for awhile and began to miss the security you felt from the war in your world, even if it was a mess. At least there you felt like you understood the rules, and understood what was expected of you. Between Sam shelling out rules, Mary disappearing, and Dean giving you this weird silent but serious routine, you weren't sure how much more you could take.

You didn’t get too far when you felt a firm hand on your arm. Out of habit you ripped your arm away, and pivoted on your heel so your back wasn’t to him.

“What do you want, Dean!” You yelled at the shocked look on his face. 

Not taking a breath you continued, “I’m so sick of the weird glances and the feeling that you’re following me, so that you can make sure I don’t mess up again!” Your emotions began to rise, and you tried uselessly to contain them back in their box.

“I’m a good hunter and I don’t deserve this desk duty, none of us do!” You fired at him further, gesturing wildly toward the bunker. Your voice was beginning to quiver and your heart was pounding hard in your chest. Once you let the emotions and the stress you've felt loose there was no reigning it back in. You felt yourself attempting to yell more at Dean, but nothing but a low gurgle came out of your throat. You felt it begin to tighten and your hands went up to grip your throat reactively. Dean’s eyes widened and his hands reached out to pull you toward him, fearing you were being possessed.

Standing closer to him, you could smell how clean he smelled, a scent that was mixed with whiskey and leather. You focused on his breathing taking breath after deep breath in rhythm with him. Dean kept his hands on your shoulders while you calmed yourself, his eyes intense and serious. You stared at your feet, until your heart stopped pounding, and you felt Dean’s warm touch stop a rogue tear that slid down your cheek. The attack was over, but the anxiety and embarrassment was sure to follow.

You jumped back quickly out of Dean’s grasp, turned and ran, putting as much distance as possible between yourself, what just happened, and the comfort you felt in the arms of that man.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

You felt the branches scratching and scraping at your bare arms as you ran. You were not entirely sure where you were going or what you were going to do when you got there, but you knew you couldn’t be around Dean in that moment. You had dealt with anxiety most of your adult life, and with it came the crushing embarrassment of finding yourself losing control, much like you felt after screaming at Dean. 

Ignoring the panic rising in your throat remembering the things you yelled at him moments ago, you focused on the crunch of the ground beneath your thudding feet. Having ran miles at a time in your old world, you reveled in the burning feeling of your thighs, and your slow labored breathing. You wanted to run forever, away from the Winchesters, and the bunker, away from feelings of inadequacy. Away from the confusion you felt. And more than anything away from the intense feelings you had when Dean looked at you, not to mention touched you. You pictured his bright, intense green eyes, and felt emotions rising up in your throat like bile. No matter what you felt for him, you would never be together. What would Dean Winchester ever want with a girl like you? 

The thought left you breathless, and you began to slow your pace, knowing you couldn’t run forever. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, and you were having trouble seeing the woods in front of you. You didn’t scare easily, but you had never been in this direction, having run directly west, as far away from the bunker as you could imagine. Leaning over, your hands on your thighs to catch your breath, survival mode kicked in and you began to take note of your surroundings, checking to make sure your silver knife was securely attached to your ankle. You stiffened when you heard rustling behind you. Any other day, any other life, you would have shrugged it off as a rabbit or other form of wildlife, but you knew what truly went bump in the night, and you began to feel yourself shake, weak from the earlier attack. You snatched the knife from your ankle in one swift movement, and hid quietly behind the nearest tree, the bark scratching at your thin shirt. You heard a few twigs snap directly behind you, and you jumped out from behind the tree knife at the ready, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. 

“Woah! Y/N it’s me!” 

You lowered the knife looking into Sam’s bright eyes. Stowing your knife, you felt him pull you into a tight hug. You hesitated before relaxing against his body. 

“Dean has been driving around looking for you for hours.” Sam muttered against your hair. You huffed out a sigh, pulling away from him and crossing your arms. You thought briefly about yelling at him, and felt the panic begin to rise again. You took two deep breaths, feeling Sam’s eyes on you. He placed a hand on your arm gently, prompting you to look at him. 

“Look, Y/N. I know this has all been really hard. It’s been an adjustment for all of us, and if I’ve come on too strong with the rules I apologize.”

You shook your head, not knowing what to say. Sam smiled at you gently, and you returned it, feeling his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s head back, okay? We can talk some more.” 

You nodded your head and followed him, as you walked slowly back toward the bunker. You hadn’t realized how far you’d ran, before having to walk silently next to Sam, who looked to be deep in thought. 

“Hey Sam,” you questioned quietly. Since stepping into their world, you hadn’t talked much, and felt Sam’s surprise at the sound of your voice. He looked at you while you both continued to walk, but you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to continue. 

“Hey,” he started, stopping you with his hand looking into your eyes. You didn’t feel the same things with Sam that you did with Dean, but looking at the compassion and concern in his eyes, you secretly wished that you did. 

You took a deep breath steadying yourself. “What is going on with Dean?” You asked simply. You could tell Sam was hesitant to answer, as he glanced over your shoulder a few times. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about Dean, Y/N. He’s the best man I know, but he’s…” he trailed off closing his eyes almost as if he was remembering a specific moment. “complicated.” 

You nodded, not quite sure you understood what he meant, but you didn’t want to push him to expand. Wasn’t complicated the exact way Dean was making you feel? You started to walk again, thinking about those cool green eyes.

________________________________________________________________________ 

You walked for awhile longer, Sam keeping a sideways eye on you. Despite caring about the brothers you constantly felt like you were being babysat, more than the other hunters, and it confused you. You wanted to question Sam further, but you were afraid more punishment would follow, and you would be completely contained to the bunker. 

“Hold up a minute.” Sam said as you both approached the front door. “Dean is probably going to be angry, just so you know. You scared him, and he doesn’t do well with his emotions.” He chewed on his bottom lip, silently remembering a specific moment again. 

You just looked at Sam as if to say no shit, and he chuckled lightly, walking through the door first, his thick boots stomping down the stairs. 

“Sammy!” You could hear Dean yell, as you hesitated in the entry way. Sam answered him quietly, and you took the distraction to walk down the stairs. The two brothers were engaged in a serious conversation, and you were hoping you could slip by undetected, but Dean looked up as soon as your feet left the stairs. 

“Y/N.” He almost gasped, taking six quick strides toward you. You were expecting him to be angry. To yell and scold you for running off. Instead you felt his arms wrap around you tight, pulling you to his chest. You felt his heart beating hard, and you breathed in the scent that had brought you back to reality mere hours ago. 

“I am so sorry.” He breathed into your hair, kissing the top of your head. You were shocked, but felt your body relax for the first time since emerging from the rift. You knew in that moment, and you didn’t know how or why, that you were in love with Dean. 

He released his hold on you, and grabbed your hand, pulling you down the hall toward his room. The bunker was eerily quiet, and you wondered where the other hunters were. Dean opened the door soundlessly, and led you to sit down on the bed. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, concern lacing his voice, as he surveyed the scrapes and bruises running up and down your exposed arms. You shook your head, but he look unconvinced, and left the room, emerging seconds later with a first aid kit. Using the alcohol, he cleaned your wounds and put a few butterfly bandages on the cuts that were deeper. You stared at him as he worked, enjoying the soft gentle of his hands. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” you whispered, as he packed up the first aid kit. He glanced up at you and gave a crooked smile, placing his palm on your cheek. Without thinking you closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, loving the warmth on your cool face. He responded with placing his other hand on the other cheek, enveloping your face in warmth. You shivered in response. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, concern returning. You nodded and he pulled back the thick grey comforter, and you slid under, noticing that his bed smelled like he did, minus the whiskey. You wanted to stay under his blankets forever. He crawled in next to you and turned on the TV to an old episode of some cop show, lowering the volume to slightly above a whisper. You glanced over at him, back against the headboard, right arm draped casually behind his neck. You didn’t think twice before cuddling up next to him, your head on his chest. You were sure you were overstepping, but you wanted to be close to him in this moment. You could feel him tense a bit, unsure of what to do, but eventually his arm relaxed and pulled you close to him. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep, and you slept soundly through the entire night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

**All you could hear was loud screaming. It wasn’t until the screams echoed back toward you that you realized they were coming from you own mouth**.

You woke with a start, your breathing quick and raspy. The room was dark and it took you a second to figure out where you were. The jolting woke Dean who stirred, and you realized you were still laying across his chest, his arms wound tightly around you.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a whisper, his breath hot against your forehead.

You nodded once, trying to slow your breathing. Dean sat up a little, pulling you with him, looking into your eyes. “What happened?” He asked quietly, rubbing circles in your back.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. You felt his warm fingers against your chin as he forced your to look into his eyes. His gaze was intense and made your breath catch, as you felt him lean forward gently. You licked your lips and bit the bottom one as he moved closer, glancing up into your eyes, gauging your reaction. When his lips touched yours, you were surprised at how gentle he was. His lips were soft and he kissed you almost tenderly, gripping you tighter to him. You never wanted the kiss to end, but he pulled away, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You fell asleep moments later, your head laying comfortably across Dean’s chest.

_________________________________________________

The next few days passed quickly, having gotten back into the swing of things with hunting. During the day, the bunker was abuzz with hunters coming and going, convening in corners to talk about latest hunts, and getting drunk in the kitchen by mid-day, if they were planning on staying home. By night, you found yourself sneaking into Dean’s room, and curling up with him in bed. He began showing more affection toward you in front of others. A quick hug if he was leaving for a hunt, or placing a hand on the small of your back if he was asking you a question. Thankfully, you didn’t have another nightmare after that first night, but you still felt the echo of your screams if you were alone with your thoughts for too long. You began to feel more comfortable being around Dean, and he genuinely seemed happy to spend time with you. At night, you were more than thankful to have his arms wrapped tightly around you. Though, you wondered often what you were to each other. You hadn’t kissed since that first night, and you were craving his mouth on yours more and more.

It was an early Thursday morning when you woke with a jolt, the echoing snap of a belt reverberating in your mind. Dean’s bed was cold with his absence and you laid back frustrated that you slipped into that familiar nightmare when his arms weren’t wrapped around you. You huffed out a breath, and decided to get out of bed. Opening the door you heard quite a few voices, even though it was early. Emerging into the kitchen there were six hunters hunched over a map that was spread out across the table. Ted, one of the hunters you knew from back home, greeted you with a small wave of his hand, and you smiled back.

“Hey Y/N, good morning.” Ted said with a smile. You nodded back, and he returned to the map, a few of the others stating greetings. You walked through the kitchen toward the library and the front entry way in search of Dean. You were embarrassed by how much you grew to need him in these last few weeks, but after waking up alone, you wanted to feel his presence more than anything. A few of the other hunters were in the library reading, and they nodded as you walked on. You didn’t find Dean in any of the familiar rooms of the bunker, and rather than go snooping, You decided to ask if anyone had seen him, walking up to the hunters in the library.

“I haven’t seen him this morning.” Jordan, the hunter closest to you stated simply, returning to his book.

“Is Sam around?” You questioned further, hoping the younger Winchester knew where he was. The others around the table shook their heads at me, and shrugged their shoulders, so you returned to the kitchen. Mary was gone on a hunt, that much you knew, so you didn’t have too many options of people who were sure to know where he was. You were beginning to feel like a jealous girlfriend and hated it. Your roommate Annabel was sitting at the table, the other hunters absent, so you questioned her if she had seen Dean and she shook her head. “Have you seen Sarah?” She questioned back. “She was supposed to work with me on some research this morning and I haven’t seen her.” You shook your head, beginning to worry. You knew that Dean and you hadn’t spoken about what was going on between you two, but since the disastrous werewolf hunt, you had promised to never hunt by yourself and always tell each other where you were going. You knew Dean might be many things, but he rarely went back on a promise. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Maggie walk up next to the table.

“Hey,” she said, “Did you guys want me to make some breakfast before we dive into the books?”

“Are you helping me today?” Annabel asked, “I thought Sarah was?”

“She was, but she left early this morning on a hunt with Dean.”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. _Why would Dean leave with Sarah?_ Despite pushing back the feelings, you began to feel jealous. You knew Sarah had a crush on Dean, and you were sleeping in his bed last night, he could have easily asked you to hunt with him. Hurt, you quickly muttered an excuse about going to the bathroom and returned to Dean’s room, searching for your phone. Finding it on his bedside table, you pulled up his name, and clicked the call button. The phone rang a few times, before you heard, “leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone” and the shrill beep. You hung up frustrated plopping down on the bed. Your emotions were a mess and you could feel your breathing quickening. You knew you had no claim on Dean, but he promised he wouldn’t go on a hunt without telling you, and why with Sarah? You decided to swallow your jealously and proceed out of concern, clicking his name on your phone a second time. The phone rang three times, before a girl answered.

“Dean’s phone!” She stated lightly. You hesitated before clearing your throat.

“Hi, is Dean there?”

“Y/N?” The voice questioned, “it’s Claire.”

You stuttered in response. _Jodi’s Claire?_ You had met Jodi and the girls a handful of times between helping with hunts or them being at the bunker.

“Uh, hey,” you finally responded. “Do you know where Dean went?”

“I don’t,” she started, “He left the Impala with me and is paying me to wash it, he must have left his phone too, I heard it ringing.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your lip stuck between your teeth. “When he gets back could you have him give me a call?”

“Sure thing!” You were saying thanks when she hung up the phone swiftly. _What is he doing in South Dakota… and why was he with Sarah?_ Despite trying to keep your emotions boxed up, you felt the frustration and insecurity rising, causing your eyes to water. You slumped back onto the bed, letting a few tears slip soundlessly down your warm cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Switch in perspective has been introduced in this chapter*

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep. Straining your ears, the bunker seemed fairly quiet, so you took a minute to reorient yourself. _**4:30pm the clocked glowed next to you.**_ You huffed out a sigh and grabbed your phone seeing no missed calls.You knew quite a few of Dean’s extra cell phone numbers, but wasn’t sure which were stashed in the glove box of the Impala and if he would have any of them with him. _Was it obsessive to call him?_ You shrugged off your second thoughts and dialed the first number, huffing out another sigh when it went straight to voicemail, Dean’s voice roughly instructing you to call Sam. You dialed another. And another. And another, until the clock next to the bed glowed 4:48pm.

You were starting to feel your frustration rise, and decided to call one more number before heading out to find Sam or someone to calm your frustrations. The phone rang three times before a female voice answered quickly, “Hello?” you hesitated long enough to hear Dean’s muffled voice, scolding Sarah for answering the phone.

“Yeah?” Dean’s annoyed voice came over the phone. You hesitated again, not sure what to say now that you were hearing his voice. “What?” He asked more annoyed this time. “Dean, where are you?” You squeaked out awkwardly. You heard him sigh heavily, and pictured his hand running across his face. There was the slight crunch of gravel under his boots as he seemed to be walking away from where he was standing previously.

“Y/N, look, it’s not a great time right now. I promise I’ll explain later.” You took in his words, nodding, even though he couldn't see you.

“We promised not to leave without telling each other where we’re going, Dean.” He didn’t say anything. Your anger began to bubble. “Why would you take Sarah, when I was literally asleep next to you this morning?” You felt how insecure you were, but kept your voice as smooth and emotionless as possible. There was silence on the other end.

“Why won’t you take me seriously as a hunter, Dean?” You finally asked simply.

“That has nothing to do with this, sweetheart.”

“When will you take me seriously then?” Silence. It was too much for you in that moment. His silence spoke more to you than words could, and you hung up the phone without another word. He didn’t call back. You sat on his bed for a few minutes weighing your options. It seemed as if nobody was taking you seriously lately, and needing to prove yourself to both the Winchesters and yourself, the decision was made. But you feared that it was more permanent than not. You quickly gathered your things from Dean’s room, and packed up the singular duffle bag you kept near the door incase you needed to make a quick escape. You couldn’t stay here anymore. After everything with Sam, and now questioning Dean, you had to go somewhere else. You opened the door and walked into the hall, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. You prayed nobody would see you as you slipped out the garage, but you weren't so lucky.

“Y/N.” You heard behind you. Sniffling back tears, and wiping your eyes, you turned toward Sam, his eyes glancing from yours to the bag in your hands. “Going somewhere?” He asked simply. You nodded, hoping to leave it at that, but the tears began to fall again, and you felt the usual flutter of your heart, knowing you were getting too emotional.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming toward you, his hands raised. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it. You don’t have to leave.” Sam hesitated, before placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked down at the floor, but stepped out of his reach, heading quickly toward the door. “Y/N, please don’t do this.” You hesitated briefly. Breathing deeply in and out, you took the steps toward the garage, and walked out into the cold night. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thankfully, Lebanon wasn’t that far from the bunker, and you figured you could steal a car easily once you got there. Your feet echoed loudly through the silent woods as you walked North toward town. Feeling your breath return to normal, you thought about your options. _You could continue hunting on your own knowing you were perfectly capable of proving yourself to the Winchesters and the other hunters at the bunker. But is that what you wanted?_ _Maybe this was your chance to start over again. Stop thinking about Dean and move forward with your life. Try to be normal._ You were lost in thought and didn’t hear the rustling behind you. Suddenly, you felt something hard hit the back of my head and your vision went black as you fell face forward onto the ground.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To your knowledge that was at least three days ago. You woke up shortly after passing out, your face bloody and with a screaming headache, in a dark basement. You weren't chained up or anything, but you knew your knife and gun were gone. The basement was cold and quiet, with a hard concrete floor, and a small wooden staircase in the corner. You were pretty positive that you had a concussion, and was afraid to sleep, let alone move, so you studied the ground around you, memorizing the cracks in the floor. The first few hours you sat alone, having tried to wipe some of the blood off your face with a rag you found in the corner. Your face hurt, and was surely pretty heavily bruised, but you didn’t think anything was broken. You were more worried about the large gash that had stopped bleeding, hidden by your matted down hair. Nobody came into the room the first day, and you couldn’t decide if this was worrying. You didn’t sleep, opting to sit with your back erect against the wall, making sure your neck wasn’t able to slump comfortably forward. The second day, the door creaked open loudly, as if it were extremely heavy, and a woman you didn’t know entered the room. She looked to be in her mid 30s and walked purposefully toward you, her heeled boots echoing loudly. She didn’t say anything, merely handed me a bottle of water and left, the door clanging loudly behind her. You sat in silence for another day, taking small sips of water, afraid this was all you would be allowed. The tears didn’t come until the end of the second day.

You couldn’t tell what time it was, but you felt groggy, from lack of proper sleep. Your back was stiff, but your head still pounded hard, and you weren't sure if you would be able to stand without falling. The door didn’t open again for hours, and you began to take stock of the people you had angered in the few months you had been in this world, your anxiety forcing me to blame yourself. The woman who gave you the water didn’t look supernatural by any means, and judging by her flannel and jeans she actually might be a hunter. You knew there were a few hunters in the beginning who left the bunker to venture off on their own, and Sam, Mary, and Dean weren’t able to find them to bring them back, but I’m pretty sure it was a group of men, angry at having to listen to the Winchesters. But you were positive they would not know you were involved with Dean, and wouldn’t have kidnapped you to get to the Winchesters. The only other hunt you were actively involved in was the botched werewolf pack, but they were taken care of. Having given yourself no answers, your thoughts led quickly toward the bright green eyes you missed most. You told no one besides Sam that you were leaving, and the way that you left things you were pretty sure no one was looking for you. Dean would most likely be angry that you left without telling him, but you were positive he wouldn’t look for me, knowing you were angry too. You were lost in your own thoughts when the door opened slowly, and you gasped when you saw the tall figure walk down the stairs toward you.

“Y/N.” Sam said softly, opening his arms wide. You lifted yourself slowly off the floor, limbs stiff, and rushed toward him, ready to be saved. You were met with his large hands shoving you back down to the ground. Sam laughed humorlessly, watching your body hit the concrete uselessly. “Did you really think I was here to save you?” He asked glaring down at you. You had landed roughly, scraping your elbows across the concrete floor attempting to keep your head from bouncing off of it, and you could feel blood slip down your arms. Your eyes filled with confused tears as you looked up at him. He laughed again, leaning down close to your face, his breath warm and smelling like beer. “You’re never getting out of here.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 **Dean**   
He walked slowly toward the bunker, regretting the conversation he had with Y/N days earlier. He never called her back, not knowing how to explain to her why she couldn’t come with on the hunting trip. Why Sam couldn’t either. What he had to do required at least one other hunter, and he needed one that was dispensable for lack of a better word. And one who didn’t understand, and wouldn’t talk him out of what he was planning to do or ask too many questions. Planning to lock himself away with Michael safely trapped in his mind wasn’t an easy decision, but one that needed to be made. And Y/N didn’t even know the specifics of the situation. Which was why Dean was returning to the bunker. She needed to understand exactly what was going on.

“Dean,” Sarah started placing a hand on his arm to stop him, as they walked slowly forward.

“It’s gonna be alright.” She finished with a smile. Dean nodded, not believing it. He opened the door to the bunker slowly, to a fury of commotion. Hunters were gathered in the war room and the library, speaking loud. Dean hesitated on the stairs, not seeing the bunker this lively since Maggie disappeared.

“Dean.” Sam entered the war room slowly, noticing Dean standing still on the stairs confused. “Y/N is missing. She’s been gone for days.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Dean**

Emerging into the library with the other hunters all staring at him cautiously, he ran a hand over his face. Without thinking, Dean shoved the open books off the table with his arms, sending them crashing down around them.

“What happened?!”

**Y/N**

It had been another day since Sam came into the room. You were incredibly confused and cried most of the time since the door slammed shut. Sam had never been exactly friendly, but always professional with you and you couldn’t understand what you had done to upset him so much. You knew he was frustrated with you for leaving, but kidnapping you to force you to stay was on a whole new level. My only hope was that Dean would talk some sense into him when he found out. You were sick of laying on the cold concrete floor, so you slowly tried to lift yourself up off the ground, careful to keep close to the wall. Your elbows stopped bleeding and were crusted over and bruised, but otherwise you think you were mildly okay, at least physically. Stretching out your legs a bit, you walked cautiously across the small room toward the wooden staircase. The heavy metal door didn’t have a handle on this side, but you shoved at it with a huff. It didn’t budge at all, and you let out an exasperated sigh. Once the sound left your mouth, the door slid open roughly, and you looked into sharp green eyes.

**Dean**

Sam told him the story softly, over the roar of the Impala engine. Apparently she had packed her things and left shortly after getting off the phone with him, at least that’s what he figured based on the information he pieced together.

“She didn’t say much,” Sam started, watching Dean's clenched fists carefully. “She didn’t seem upset so much as determined.”

Dean listened to the story, his eyes focused on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tight. “Maggie was coming back from a walk and saw her head into the woods, a figure appearing behind her. She said that she yelled out to Y/N, but she disappeared before Maggie could get to her.” Sam trailed off, glancing out the window, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Dean let out a long sign, his hand running through his hair. If he would have just told her what was going on, she wouldn’t have been out there alone. She wouldn’t be gone.

“Dean.” Sam said, a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” He finished, reading Dean's mind.

“Yes it is.” He grunted in response.

**Y/N**

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean said softly, closing the door behind him, and taking you in his arms. You couldn’t help but grasp onto him, weak and exhausted. He breathed out a sigh, and you tried to match your breathing to his.

“Don’t cry,” he said, taking your face in his hands and drying your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He released your face and walked through the small basement.

“Where are we?” You whispered. He didn’t turn, but you heard his answer as if he spoke it directly into your ear. “We are nowhere. You, on the other hand, are trapped.”

**Dean**

They stopped at a gas station outside of Sioux Falls to fill up, and grab some coffee. “When I picked up Baby, Claire told me Y/N had called my phone and she answered.” Dean told Sam simply, the only potential clue they had to where Y/N was. He nodded in understanding, and Dean filled the Impala with gas silently, Sam heading inside for coffee. Dean leaned against the car, his head in his hands, praying Y/N was alive. If she wasn’t, there wasn’t any way he would forgive himself. The gas stopped pumping, and he removed the nozzle. Dean could see Sam inside walking slowly through the aisles of the gas station, probably avoiding spending more tense moments with him in the car. Walking toward the back of the gas station, Dean stopped at the employee entrance. The mark on his arm started to throb, and he felt his anger bubble thinking about where Y/N could be. Lashing out he punched aggressively at the metal door, denting it a few times with his fists until his knuckles were bloody. Exhausted, Dean headed back out front, seeing Sam at front counter, watching him cautiously through the door. Keeping his head down, he got back into the car and started it up waiting anxiously for Sam.

“Where are you Y/N,” Dean whispered helplessly.

**Y/N**

“What?” You squeaked out pathetically. Dean turned slowly, a terrifying grin plastered to his face. He took three large strides toward you, his hands gripping your arms hard. You could feel bruises forming under his fingers and you winced, as his face came close to yours. You smelled beer on his breath.

“Dean,” you started softly, “you’re hurting me.” He only smiled back at you. Terrified, you could feel yourself shaking, not understanding what was happening, or what you had done to make both Winchesters so angry at you. Dean was staring curiously into your eyes, still gripping you harshly.

“You have no idea what is going on, do you Y/N?” He asked. You shook your head, confused by the tone in his voice a mixture of pity and hatred. He laughed, as Sam had earlier, and threw your effortlessly to the ground. Bending down to the ground at your level, he gripped your face, fingers digging into the skin. “You really are pathetic. You actually thought we cared about you?” He seethed. You felt tears coming to your eyes, Dean speaking one of your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have time to react, as his boot kicked at your stomach, making you gasp for air. He practically waltzed away, and you heard the door slam as you were left gasping for air on the floor, holding your bruised and broken body.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a toss up whether it would be Sam or Dean entering the room by the fifth day you were in the basement. Often Sam would visit and tell you that you were a burden on him and Dean. Dean would visit and hit you until you didn’t react much anymore. Eventually, neither of them returned for awhile and you slept on the cold concrete floor, having cried yourself dry over the past few days. 

**Dean**

The Impala pulled up to the abandoned house, and he put the car in park, leaning his head back against the bench seat. It had been five days since Y/N was last seen, and Dean and Sam didn’t seem to be getting any closer to finding her. 

Jody told them a few random people were disappearing in South Dakota, only to have their bodies found a few days later. Then their families would notify her that the family member showed up again, moments after being buried. Sam and Dean settled on it being a Shapeshifter, and they began searching abandoned properties around Sioux Falls. This was the third they had been to in the last day. It wasn’t a clue to where Y/N was, but it was something to keep their mind's occupied. 

“Why would the Shifter be so interested in hurting random people?” Sam asked, thinking out loud. Dean didn’t have an answer, so he stayed quiet, his eyes closed tight. 

Dean suddenly opened the door of the Impala, needing some air. He couldn’t shake this headache, and the pulsing of the mark was making him crazy. He could feel himself getting angrier the longer they went without answers to where Y/N was.

“Hey,” Sam started, getting out of the car. “You okay?” 

Dean signed loudly. “No, Sam. I’m not okay.” He left it at that, heading toward the dilapidated property. Sam followed quietly, and Dean could feel his eyes trained on the back of his head. 

The house they were outside of was large, half of it crumbling toward the back of the property. The basement looked intact, which was a promising sign, assuming the Shifter could be staying downstairs. Dean made his way toward the stairs, when a sharp scream echoed toward them. Dean glanced quickly at Sam, both drawing their guns before rushing toward the front door. 

**Y/N**

Dean came downstairs this time, pulling your face close to his. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmured. You laid there silent and broken, hating how much he was calling you sweetheart lately. 

“Tired?” He asked. You didn’t respond. 

Feeling a sharp kick to your side, you let out an unnatural wail, your ribs already badly beaten. There was a crack from upstairs, that sounded like a door being kicked in, and Dean turned sharply, heading toward the stairs. You laid still holding your sides, tears slipping weakly out of both eyes that were squeezed tightly shut. There was a commotion upstairs, but you kept your eyes shut, not caring what Sam and Dean were doing anymore. It wasn’t until you heard a gasp from the other side of the room, that you lifted your head slightly, seeing what looked to be genuine shock on Dean’s face, as he was shining a flashlight into yours. 

**Dean**

Dean kicked the door to the house in roughly, entering a dusty barren room. He took the flank and Sam headed quickly forward, his gun drawn and ready. They walked forward into the house, toward the basement, only pausing when they saw the shadow of a figure. 

“Hey,” Dean yelled quickly, “stay where you are!” 

The figure came slowly into the light, and Dean momentarily hesitated, recognizing the green eyes and flannel. 

“Hello, Dean.” The Shifter stated, looking exactly like him. The Shifter smiled eerily, and Dean didn’t hesitate before blowing two silver bullets through the man who looked like him. He fell roughly to the ground. The smile was still plastered to his face, but he was in the middle of attempting to shift into Sam when Dean shot him, so the figure that died was grotesque and unrecognizable. The Shifter was laying in front of a door, and Dean kicked him roughly to the side, Sam searching the body for any idea who he was. Opening the door, Dean saw a tiny wooden staircase that lead into a dark, cold basement. He clicked on his flashlight and shown it around the room, landing on a body in the corner. He gasped quickly. 

“Y/N?” He questioned, not believing it was really her. 

“Please,” she whimpered. Dean could barely hear her, her voice scratchy and rough. “Stop.” She finished, cowering away from him. 

Dean walked quickly down the stairs toward her. “Y/N,” he started again, reaching out to her. She flinched away, gathering herself tightly into a ball. “It’s me.” He tried, his voice cracking seeing her react the way she did. Sam appeared in the doorway, coming toward them slowly. Dean looked up at him, concern etching his face, as he crouched down near her. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, moving her hair out of her face. When his fingers brushed her face, she began to scream, moving quickly away from us, making Sam fall backward from his crouched position. 

“Sweetheart, it’s us.” Dean whispered, his heart breaking watching her attempt to get as far away from them that the small basement would allow. She began to cry, her sobs racking her shoulders. Dean couldn’t hold back, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap. Her arms flailed wildly, connecting a few times with his face and chest. Sam grabbed her arms and held her firmly, but gently, as Dean cradled her to him. 

“Shhh,” he shushed her quietly. “Baby, it’s okay now. It’s okay. Shhhh.” She continued to sob, but she stopped attempting to hit Dean, her face buried in his flannel shirt, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Dean looked at Sam, tears streaming down his face, as he rocked Y/N slowly back and forth. 

“What happened, baby? What happened to you?” Dean whispered aloud. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

_“What happened, baby? What happened to you?”_

**Dean**

He heard himself speaking to her softly, as she whimpered and clung to his shirt, simultaneously trying to push him away. I glanced at Sam and saw the tears streaming down his face, as he watched Y/N carefully. Quickly glancing up and down her body Dean saw a few bruises on her exposed arms, but she didn’t look too terrible, and he debated scooping her up in my arms and carrying her out. Sam seemed to read his mind as he began to stand, swiping the tears from his eyes. Dean nodded at him, and slowly began to rise, stopping on his knees. He moved his arms under her knees and safely behind her back, Sam placing her arms around Dean's neck, as he scooped her up.

“Stop,” she squeaked, making Dean hesitate, her arms feeling like lead on his neck. “I don’t want to go with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Just leave me here.” She finished, breathless from sobbing.

Dean sat perched up on his knees, still gripping her tightly. “Sweetheart,” he began carefully, watching her cringe at his voice. “We can’t leave you here. You’re hurt, Y/N. We’re taking you with us.” She began to cry again in response, and Dean rocked her slowly, rising to his feet. She didn’t protest, just clung to him harder. Sam walked in front of them, opening the basement door, careful to avoid the faceless blob dead on the floor. She didn’t move her head from my shoulder as we passed the dead Shifter, and Dean chose to let her look away. They walked swiftly through the destroyed living room, out to the Impala, where he carefully placed her in the backseat, covering her frail body with his blue canvas jacket. She turned to face the Impala backseat, burying her face in the worn leather. Dean got into the front seat silently, Sam following, careful to close the door quietly. Letting out a long sigh, he started the car and backed down the gravel driveway, rocks crunching loudly underneath the tires, drowning out her sobs.

**Y/N**

You had fallen asleep, the road and the roar of the engine lulling you into a restless sleep. Jerking awake, you realized they were stopped, and turning your head slightly from the leather of the backseat, you saw that you were also alone in the car. But you could hear Dean’s muffled angry voice from outside.

“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” There was a pause, and you realized he was on the phone with someone. You raised your head higher and saw Sam leaning against the passenger side of the car, his head in his hands, as Dean paced a few feet away.

“Yeah,” Dean continued with a sigh. His voice sounded gravely and rough like he hadn’t used it in awhile. You wondered how long you had been asleep, or how far they had driven. It was dark out and you seemed to have stopped near a park of some sort, trees and bushes surrounding the car like a cave.

“She wanted us to leave her!” Dean suddenly shouted, his voice echoing against the trees. “I think that means something is clearly wrong.” He finished through gritted teeth.

You flinched, pressing your hands over your ears and shoved your face against the leather seat. _You’re worthless._ You remembered his voice close to your ear as he whispered the things that broke your heart while simultaneously making your more scared than you had ever been. Dean was a protector, but you knew first hand what happened if he decided he didn’t want you around anymore. You didn’t want to make him mad anymore, and from what Sam kept saying to you every time he stepped through the steel door, you knew you were only in the way. _Worthless and useless. Worthless and useless. Worthless and useless._ So many times that you began to believe it yourself. You peeked up away from seat and saw both boys with their back toward you facing away. You sat up slowly, watching for any movement, as you grabbed at the door handle, careful to not make a noise. Opening the back door slowly, you climbed out and onto the ground, keeping your eyes on Sam’s plaid shirt to watch for any movement. He was too focused on his brother, who muttered into his phone, one hand shoved in his pocket.

“Yeah. Okay.” He finished roughly.

Dean was clearly agitated, and you knew you couldn’t be around them any longer, fearing you wouldn’t be alive to see tomorrow. Your body screamed in protest as you climbed on the ground, but you kept moving backward. You didn’t dare close the door, as you slowly crept away toward the nearest grouping of trees. Cowering behind the bushes, you took three quick breaths before jumping up and sprinting into the darkness.

**Dean**

“Yeah. Okay.” He finished. Cas was less than helpful, but he said he would take a look at Y/N when they got her back to the bunker to see what was going on. Dean had no idea what had happened to her, but from her terrified eyes he feared the worst, knowing the Shifter easily posed as me. He hung up the phone, standing with his back to the car a few seconds longer, not ready to get back behind the wheel. He didn’t turn until he heard Sam’s panicked voice behind him.

“Y/N?” Sam questioned. Dean turned and saw the back door to the car opened wide. Rushing toward the Impala, he saw the back seat empty, and he yelled out into the woods, turning wildly around, squinting into the darkness.

**Y/N**

You heard Sam and Dean yelling for you, but you kept running, your ribs screaming for you to stop. You knew a few were broken, and your legs weren’t helping as you loudly crashed through the woods, but you forced them to carry you forward, too afraid of what was behind. You didn’t want to run straight as you knew that was an easy trail to follow, so you began to weave back and forth going North than East a ways before North again. Sam yelled out behind you, and you heard twigs snapping close. You began to cry not knowing what you were supposed to do, the sobs racking your body. _You couldn’t let them catch you_. Your legs seemed unable to take you too much further. Glancing back, you ran swiftly head on into strong arms. Dean grabbed at your arms hard and held you.

“Y/N, stop.” He stated as you panicked, screaming for him to not hurt you, shoving at his chest, trying to get him to let you go.

“Stop!” He yelled again, pure confusion on his face, and you fell to the ground screaming and crying expecting to feel his boot crash into you next. “Just let me go!” you screamed. “I know what a burden I am, and that I’m worthless. You reminded me of that every minute for the last five days! Just leave me alone!” You continued, curling into a ball on the ground.

“Just kill me.” You whispered up at him with finality, not able to scream anymore.

**Dean**

Y/N’s words reverberated in the back of his head. _I’m worthless. You reminded me of that every minute for the last five days! Just kill me_. Dean knew then that he was right about what had happened at that house. She had been tortured by someone posing as him. And maybe Sam, who had finally caught up with them in the woods after hearing her screaming. His hand was over his mouth, and Dean could see tears in his eyes again. Dean crouched down to meet her eye level not knowing what to do, but coming to terms with what had happened to her– He tried the first thing he could think of, which was to tell her the truth.

“Sweetheart,” he began softly, watching tremors rock her body, resisting the urge to force her into his arms again. “That wasn’t us, honey. I would never say that to you. Back at that house, we killed a Shifter. He had changed into me and was in the process of changing into Sam when we killed him.” Dean explained, watching her for a reaction. She didn’t say anything, but she stopped shaking a bit, and allowed Dean to move a piece of hair out of her face.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s all my fault.” Dean whispered looking down at her. Her face was expressionless and she seemed in shock. Dean hesitated before shifting her body toward him. “I’m going to take you back to the car, sweetheart.” She didn’t respond, but allowed him to take her in his arms, her body dead weight. Dean let Sam drive, while he held Y/N in the back seat, rubbing slow circles into her back. She slept clinging to his shirt. She didn’t wake up when they pulled into the garage at the bunker, and Dean picked her up, carrying her swiftly down the stairs to his room. They passed Cas in the library, and he followed behind them. When Dean laid her in the bed, Cas went to work healing her ribs, which he informed them were broken, as well as the deep bruising on her back, collarbone, hips, knees.

“It looks like she also has a minor concussion.” He continued, two hands poised gently above her forehead. Dean couldn’t listen to Cas describing the extent of her injuries, and he slowly exited the room, leaning his head against the cool concrete outside of the door. Sam followed slowly, closing the door behind him. He was silent as Dean turned his head away from him.

“Dean,” he began. “You cannot blame yourself right now. We have to work together to help her heal. And you punishing yourself is only going to make things worse.” He finished the last words with compassion, knowing his brother better than anyone. Dean simply glared at him, taking a step away from the wall.

“How could I possibly make things worse than I already have.” Sam looked at him silently. Reacting out of anger, Dean slammed his fist into the wall, shaking it out roughly as it bled, and stalked away from the room to find a drink in the kitchen. The mark on his arm continued to throb.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

**Sam**

Dean slammed his fist roughly into the wall and stalked away shaking it out as he disappeared around the corner. Sam could hear the clink of glasses shortly after as he scrounged in the kitchen for alcohol. Sighing loudly, Sam ran a hand across his face. The bunker was practically empty when they came back in and his sigh echoed loudly down the hall into the war room and back toward him, so it sounded like multiple people sighing at once. Opening the door to Dean’s room, Sam went back in, seeing Y/N laying motionless on the bed on top of the worn grey comforter. Cas was standing still in the corner, his eyes trained on her, waiting for one of the brothers to come back in.

“I was able to access her memories, but she is too traumatized at this moment to fix.” Cas stated simply, giving Sam his long stare. Sam saw pity in his eyes. “Thanks Cas,” he whispered in response, careful not to wake her.

“She is really confused about what happened at the old house, and what is happening now.” Cas hesitated as he walked toward me. “I imagine, you know that the monster was posing as you and Dean.” Sam nodded at him, glancing at Y/N. _What are we supposed to do?_

Cas patted him simply on the shoulder and they walked out together, closing the door softly behind us.

**Dean**

He found some whiskey hidden behind the coffee mugs in the cupboard and poured a healthy amount into the glass in his hand. Dean's hand ached, and the mark on his arm was throbbing, making him angrier by the minute. _She’s hurt because of you_ , a voice in his head kept whispering. He pushed down on his eyelids hard with the palms of his hands until the voice turned into a low static noise, and he took a swig of whiskey feeling it burn slowly down his throat.

“Dean.” Cas stated. He looked up and saw him and Sam standing in the doorway, concern etching their faces. “Y/N is asleep. I tried to heal all of her wounds, but her memories are pretty awful, and I’m not sure I will be able to scrub them clean.” He finished. Dean sighed and nodded into his glass, feeling their eyes on him, waiting for Dean to speak. “She is feeling profound pain right now, and I’m afraid that even if I eliminate the memory of the shifter, she will still feel an inexplicable fear being around you both.” Dean could feel Cas’s eyes starring through him, hoping for some sort of direction. A decision Dean wasn’t capable of making.

“What do you want to do?” Sam asked, eventually taking the seat in front of Dean. He glanced up at Sam, feeling his eyes narrow with the anger he wasn’t able to control. Dean rolled the empty glass between his hands slowly. Suddenly, the glass in his hand was gone, and smashed loudly against the opposite wall. Cas and Sam didn’t move, but there was a gasp from where the glass just shattered against the wall, and they heard the door to the bunker slam loudly. Dean glanced quickly between Cas and Sam before all three of them were out of their seats and bounding up the stairs.

**Y/N**

Hearing the door close lightly, you jolted awake. You lifted your stiff arms carefully and fingered the worn comforter beneath your hand, realizing you were in Dean’s room. In Dean’s bed. Panicking that you were dreaming, you shot up, and felt your vision blur from sitting too quickly, and you rubbed your hands against your eyes to clear them. The room looked exactly the same, but after five days of abuse, you couldn’t be sure anything was real anymore. _The Impala had seemed real earlier, but how could you possibly know for sure?_ Dean and Sam seemed normal, but that was how they acted at the old house too. A tear leaked out of one of your eyes, and you felt the frustration of not knowing what you were supposed to do hit you all at once. You sat up carefully looking around at the records in the corner and the cool concrete walls, your eyes landing on the weapons place strategically on the wall opposite the bed. You reached for the weapons, landing on a small gun that you tucked into the back of your jeans, after making sure it was loaded. _Better safe than sorry at this point_. Straining for voices, you heard nothing but the dull groan of the air system. Letting out a puff of air, you decided to sneak out of the room to try and find anyone. If you were really in the bunker, there would be other hunters around. You thought you heard Castiel earlier as well, and didn’t remember him being at the old house before. _Maybe he can help me_ , you thought to myself. The door groaned when you opened it, and you winced, trying to be quieter. You opened the door to the bedroom you shared with two other hunters, but it was empty. As you slowly walked down the hall you began to hear the low moan of voices, and you continued to tip toe toward the kitchen.

“What do you want to do?” You heard Sam ask, his voice weary and tired. The care in his voice made you melt, and at that moment, all you wanted was to run to the boys and hug them both, desperate for comfort. You peeked your head around the corner at the same time that Dean threw a glass roughly at the wall– The same wall you were hiding behind. You let out a gasp, as the glass showered to the floor, and ran straight toward the staircase leading out of the bunker, having your fears confirmed. It was only a matter of time before Sam and Dean found you again and hurt you more.

**Dean**

“Y/N!” He shouted into the darkness. Dean could hear her footsteps smacking against the wet ground as she ran a few yards ahead of him. The mark on his arm continued to tingle from the anger he felt mere seconds ago when he threw the glass. He hadn’t realized Y/N was even up, let alone right behind the wall, but his fears were confirmed when he heard her let out a gasp and bound up the stairs, before any of them could say a word. Dean continued to hear her gasping for breath as she ran.

“Please stop!” He begged, desperate to get to her before she hurt herself more. Dean could hear Sam behind him, and they told Cas to stay behind, just incase she turned around and went back to the bunker.

**Y/N**

Outside your bare feet touched the wet grass of the forest in front of you and you were running straight into the trees, visions of a week ago flashing through your mind. Wet tears stained your face and you heard Dean yell out only yards behind you. The branches caught on your arms and legs, but you kept running, urging your body to take me further into the woods, away from the Winchesters. Away from everything. You felt a wave of despair wash over you as you continued to run away from the two people you simultaneously wanted to run toward. Taking a sharp right, you dove behind a bush reaching for the knife securely attached to your leg. You didn’t know what you were planning to do, but before you could think you raised the knife high pointed toward you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain, hoping for relief as well.

“Y/N,” a gruff voice spoke, grasping my arm hard. You looked up into Cas’s eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, launching yourself into his arms. “Help me Cas, please!” You wailed, shaking as his arms snaked around you. You could hear Sam and Dean approach behind you, and with your back to them you began to scream, begging for Cas to take you away. All you could remember before passing out was the angel's cool fingers against your forehead.

**Dean**

He could hear Y/N yelling up ahead, and as he entered the clearing he saw her in Cas’s arms his eyes staring forward anticipating Dean and Sam approaching them. Hearing their footsteps, she began to scream and Cas placed his fingers to her forehead putting her to sleep instantly.

“Dean,” Sam began breathing hard beside him. “What do we do?” He asked, as lost as Dean was.

“We only have one option.” Dean finished, looking both men directly in the eyes.

**Y/N**

You woke feeling groggy, your vision blurry. There was a man sleeping soundly next to you, his head laying against the bed, one of your hands held firmly in his. You removed your hand carefully, hoping not to wake him, but he stirred, breathing in a quick breath of air making you jump.

“Y/N?” He asked simply, rubbing gently at his eyes sleepily. You hesitated before speaking.

“Who are you?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After entering Dean and Sam’s world from your Apocalypse world with the other hunters, life has been a challenge. You never expected to find solace in the Winchester brothers, especially not the oldest. But when he falls back on a promise the both of you made, where are you supposed to go from there?

**Y/N**

You woke feeling groggy, your vision blurry. There was a man sleeping soundly next to you, his head laying against the bed, one of your hands held firmly in his. You removed your hand carefully, hoping not to wake him, but he stirred, breathing in a quick breath of air making you jump.

“Y/N?” He asked simply, rubbing gently at his eyes sleepily.

You hesitated before speaking.

“Who are you?”

**Dean**

_Who are you?_ Echoed against his mind over and over again as he stared into her [Y/E/C] eyes that were filled with questioning. Dean could feel tears well up in his eyes, but he cleared his throat roughly to will them away, trying to find the words to speak.

“Are you okay?” She asked, gripping his arm lightly, concern etching her features. His heart swelled at the concern written on her face and he had to force his hands into fists to keep from pulling her toward him.

“Um,” he started finding his nerve. “My name is Dean Winchester.”

He felt her hand lift off of her arm and move to her blanketed lap.

“THE Dean Winchester,” She said with a laugh.

He thought her laugh sounded like the greatest music he'd ever heard and he almost lost his nerve.

“We even know about you in our world.”

 _Our world?_ He thought to himself, putting the pieces together. _Cas only erased the memories of me and Sam_ , he concluded sadly.

“Yeah,” he coughed out forcing a smile onto his face. “That’s me.”

She smiled back at him, suddenly looking around the room and taking in the things on his walls and the records in the corner. “Am I in your room?” She questioned hesitantly, looking embarrassed.

Dean smiled at her softly. “Yeah, you are.”

“Why?” She questioned.

He considered how he would respond, wondering what all she remembered. “Well, sweetheart, you were hurt on a hunt, so we brought you here.”

As he spoke, she nodded her head in understanding, lifting his blanket off of her lap. “I should go back to my room.” She stated simply, lifting herself up off the bed.

**Y/N**

_Why were you in here?_ You began to lift yourself up off the bed, when you felt Dean’s hands pushing you back down softly.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t move. We aren’t sure how hurt you are.” He responded looking at you sadly. “It’s fine if you stay here for a while. I’ll stay in another room.”

You shook your head roughly, putting your hands on his to remove them from your shoulders. Before you could raise yourself higher the door opened softly, an extremely tall man stepping through the door with a tray, before stopping when he saw the scene before him. You removed your hands from Dean’s, but he didn’t pull his or his gaze away from you and you lowered yourself back to the bed. The tall man continued starring at you and you smiled in return, unsure what was going on.

“Um,” the new man started, placing the tray in his hands on the table behind the door. “I’m Sam.”

You nodded your head, almost in recognition and he took that as an invitation to come further into the room and sit at the end of the bed, careful not to touch you.

“How are you feeling,” he asked, his puppy dog eyes and creased forehead making you smile. _You know this man_. You frantically searched your memories, hitting nothing but blank wall after blank wall, or moments that seemed to have been clipped short. _Walking around the corner of the bunker and the memory stopping just as someone came toward you. Having a conversation that was stopped short when the bunker door opened._

You didn’t realize you were gnawing on your bottom lip and hadn’t answered his question, when you felt his hand on your ankle above the blanket. The touch made you jump slightly, and Sam retracted his hand concern etching his face.

“Uh,” you started, remembering his question. You looked down at the small bandages scattering over your arms and felt a flash of a memory of running through the woods, branching scratching at your arms and face. You were running but it wasn’t toward something, it was like you were fleeing in fear, the emotion washing over you and you thought.

“Did I run from something?” You finally asked looking between Sam and Dean. There was a palpable tension in the room as you looked from brother to brother. Dean finally nodded his head slowly, looking at his clenched fists. You leaned forward a bit trying to get his attention, but he focused it toward the ground not meeting your eyes.

“What was I hunting?” You turned toward Sam and he met your gaze but didn’t answer. You could tell he was trying to come up with what he was going to and you could feel your frustration growing the longer he stared between you, his brother, and the ground. Finally it became too much.

“What is going on!” You yelled at the brothers and you felt an overwhelming feeling as memories flooded toward you, pieces returning to you suddenly and violently clicking down in your brain, each one sending fire through your veins.

_Entering the bunker for the first time and seeing bright green eyes staring at you._

_Dean patching you up and pulling you into his chest for a tight hug._

_Researching with Sam, laughing when he almost fell backwards in his chair._

_Dean holding you close at night, his hand drawing gentle circles on your back._

_You screaming at Dean “what do you want!?”_

_Running through the woods._

_The torture at the hands of the two brothers._

_Running away time and time again._

You closed your eyes tight as the memories overwhelmed you your hands pushing hard against your eye lids until you saw white, but the memories kept coming.

_Waking up in Dean’s room and grabbing the gun._

_Dean lashing out in anger. The shatter of glass._

_You running through the woods the branches scratching at your arms._

_Running headfirst into Cas’ open arms, screaming for him to save you._

You could feel your mouth open and the screams involuntarily pouring from your throat. Dean jumped out of his seat and grabbed hold tightly to your wrists, trying to tear them from digging into your eye lids. You heard Sam calling quietly to Cas, clearly praying for him to get here.

The final memory that clicked into place and suddenly everything made complete sense.

_You felt Cas’ cool fingers against your forehead, and you woke up with Dean asleep next to you, your hand in his._

Your screams cut off suddenly. And you lowered your hands, starring forward, through the wall, through the bunker, through the woods, out into nothing.

“I remember.” You whispered to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait. Thank you for continuing to read!


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